May We Meet Again
by Lady Of Cythera
Summary: Her first downfall was getting arrested. That, she could handle. Her worst downfall was trusting the enemy. Clarke Griffin, handpicked from juvenile prison, was chosen to train at Ark Academy - a government operative agency. With this heavy responsibility comes the promising opportunity to gain revenge on the commander of an illegal operative company who left her for dead.
1. Demons

**A/N: This chapter is intended to be short – more of an introduction rather than a complete chapter. The second chapter is complete and will be uploaded shortly.**

 _You want to know something about demons?_

 _Everybody has them. In one form or another._

 _Me? I have a lot of them. For as long as I can remember, I've been plagued by my past._

 _Once you recognise your shame, your regret, your fears… your temptations… your demons start to develop faces. Features._

 _Sometimes names._

 _Sometimes demons are so beautiful, so endearingly dangerous, they cannot be slain._

 _If you can't slay them, you at least need to make peace with them or eventually they will destroy you._

 _But sometimes, destruction is what we deserve._

 _Sometimes, destruction is what we crave._

The battered, leather-bound book slid from her lap, colliding with the thin mattress on the hospital bed.

Ending up here had been an accident.

But she'd needed some kind of release. An escape.

The blade scraping over her skin had been involuntary – an impulse that she couldn't control.

It wasn't done with the intention of hurting herself. Not really. She'd just needed something physical to compensate for the mental torture she'd been experiencing over the past few months.

It had all happened so fast.

Being listed as a criminal had never been on her agenda. But people often received things they didn't want in life.

But, she'd paid back her debts.

As best she could, anyway.

She'd just had her 18th birthday and was one step closer to becoming a free woman. At least, that's what they'd told her.

 _Pfft, yeah right. Free woman, my ass_.

The truth was, in Ark Academy, you didn't get to be free. Gifted people were selected from both juvenile and adult prisons to undertake high-level training to eventually become a part of the undercover government agency. A lifelong contract. Once you turned 18 and had received sufficient training, you had to prove your worth out in the mission field. Clarke had been given that opportunity. She was lucky the mission had even been completed. Her mistakes had almost cost the lives of her entire team. She didn't feel worthy of qualifying as an agent, but yet here she was, preparing for her final ceremony in a stupid hospital bed.

The mission was something she didn't want to talk about. Not yet.

Anyway, it was a shady business working in the government's academy, but many – not all – of the top high-functioning successful icons in the agency had initially been criminals.

Criminals had skills, knowledge, and balls.

Balls to do things regular citizens wouldn't.

Sure, the government was messed up.

But what in life wasn't?

Yet, the stress of the training in multiple areas on top of dealing with her own crimes weighed heavy on her chest.

To be honest, she was lucky she'd been selected for the academy. Her mother, who was a doctor herself, had serious connections and the ability to pull whatever strings took her fancy.

But as mentioned before, ending up in the public infirmary had been a mistake. A slip of a blade over her wrist whilst on transitional leave from the academy.

She'd just wanted to forget. Forget about her demons. Just for one minute.

"Hi there. Do you prefer Clarke, or Miss Griffin?"

"Clarke is fine." She responded, easing up into a more comfortable position. This practitioner was new. Clarke could tell by the way she shifted awkwardly by her bedside as though she didn't quite know which ward she was supposed to be on.

"Well, Clarke, I'm Eliza, a trainee nurse, and I was wondering if I could have your consent to check–"

"–My blood pressure, right?"

Eliza smiled, "Sure, if that's okay with you."

Clarke nodded and rolled up her sleeve. Honestly, she could have just done it herself.

"Okay, everything's fine for now – although your blood pressure is a little on the low side. Have you eaten today?"

Clarke shook her head.

"Mind if I do your BMs – uh, test your blood sugar levels?"

She avoided a smirk at the jargon slip-up and just held up her finger. It was common knowledge that healthcare professionals weren't supposed to use slang around patients, and it was possible to get in trouble for doing so.

After the prick of the needle in her fingertip, Clarke watched her blood trickle onto the strip and feed back to the monitor.

"Okay, 3.4… That's pretty low, Clarke. Would you like some juice and a sandwich bringing to you?" Eliza asked, chewing on her lower lip as she gauged her patient's evident disregard for her own wellbeing.

"I'm good." Clarke pulled the IV drip from her arm and pressed her fingers down on the pinprick needle wound.

Every trainee nurse's worst nightmare; an uncooperative patient.

"Actually, I'm afraid I can't discharge you until you've finished your dose." She indicated to the bag hanging by Clarke's bedside, "Would you mind hanging on an extra half an hour? I'll bring you some lunch in the meantime."

Clarke sighed. She knew overpowering the trainee nurse would be all too easy, but as such, she just smiled, "I'll just have the juice. You can put this back in when I've come back from the bathroom, okay?"

Eliza worried at her lower lip once more before she shook her head uncertainly, "Right. Okay, I'll be two minutes."

 _Take your time_.

Eliza bustled from the bay and left Clarke with the brief window of time to grab her bag and sling it over her shoulder. She sidled from the ward and headed towards the main entrance, pulling her buzzing phone from her coat pocket, "Hey, Octavia."

" _Clarke, hey. Where are you? I've gotten like six missed calls from your mother. She says you're not picking up._ "

"Yeah… Yeah, I've not had chance to return her calls yet." She left the gates of the infirmary and headed towards the garages a couple of blocks away where she'd been keeping her pride and joy.

There was a baited silence on the other end before Octavia sighed, " _Clarke… tell me you're not in hospital. Please. Because this happened last time. Nobody could reach you for hours._ "

"I'm not." She muttered, pulling her keys from the front pocket of her bag, tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder, "I'm about to set back off now, so chill, O. I have a mentoring session in half an hour."

She knew her friend was unconvinced, but she'd deal with that later.

" _Right. Well, see you soon then, I guess_."

Once she'd hung up, Clarke swung one leg over her black Triumph Daytona after pulling her motorcycle helmet from beneath the seat. She was sure she'd be fine to drive. She'd spent longer in hospital than she'd felt necessary, and she'd always healed quickly anyway.

The wind whipping past her body as she soared along the roads to hit the highway helped. It helped cleanse her mind of the reservations she felt about keeping Octavia in the dark.

It wasn't that she didn't trust her.

She did.

But Clarke was used to betrayal from friends and people she thought she could trust. She spent most of her time around thieves, assaulters, hackers, drug-users… and murderers. Trust wasn't something that could be gained or given easily.

The thing that hit hardest was losing the few friends she did have.

Sometimes through fault of her own. Sometimes through theirs.

She'd lost too many people in her life to face losing another. Especially a friend and colleague as strong as Octavia Blake. Disappointing her wasn't something she felt ready to do. Not right then.

Not after last time.

…

"So, how do you feel you're getting on, Charlotte?" Clarke was sitting beside a young girl – one who looked like she'd barely hit her teenage years, "Are you settling in better since last time we talked?"

Charlotte shrugged, the determined set of her jaw refusing to loosen up. She was almost as stubborn as Clarke. That was probably why she was both infuriating and fascinating to her.

"You've not had any more issues with those boys?"

Charlotte shook her head slowly, "Not since you spoke to them. I'm doing okay. I think. I just… never mind." She muttered.

"Hey…" Clarke moved one hand to rest on the girl's shoulder gently, "It's okay. You can tell me. I'm not exactly in a position to judge, am I? We all make mistakes."

Charlotte shrugged once more, refusing to meet her eye.

"You know, I found it hard to make friends when I first came here. I didn't know where I fit in. I'm not saying it gets easier, you just get stronger."

"I'm trying to get stronger. But I keep waking up in the night, crying. So, how am I supposed to be strong when I look so weak?"

Clarke nodded slowly, "The nightmares are still happening?"

"Every time I close my eyes."

She chewed on her lip in thought before continuing, "What you witnessed before you came here was terrifying. It's enough to give anybody nightmares. The way I see it is that you need to learn that sometimes, it's okay not to be okay. It's how we learn and grow."

Charlotte processed this before she gave a nod of her head, fiddling with her braid to occupy her hands, "I just keep seeing my parents over and over. Every time I fall asleep, I see them getting shot. It's like a repeat. How can I get that to stop?"

Clarke shrugged lightly, her eyes landing empathetically on Charlotte's as she finally glanced up to her, "I still sometimes see my Dad die. The images don't ever go away. Not properly. But I learned how to accept it. Your journey here is about learning to stare your demons dead in the face and say 'I'm not afraid'."

Charlotte nodded, "That's what Bellamy said too."

 _Of course_. He had been Charlotte's mentor before he'd fully qualified. The blonde nodded, "Bellamy's a smart guy. You know, he had a lot of demons too. He faced all of them. Just like I know you can."

"You really think I can?" She asked, the fear finally becoming visible behind her eyes.

"Yes. You know what Bellamy taught me? That it's okay to be afraid. Just don't let it stop you from doing what you need to do."

The girl stood up, brushing down her trousers, "Thanks, Clarke. See you next time."

"Sure." She allowed herself a half smile, both out of encouragement for Charlotte, and fondness for Octavia's older brother.

Octavia had been a criminal long before her brother. He'd followed her into prison once she'd been selected for the academy. He scored a solid 11 on the 1-10 overprotective brother scale… They'd managed to all make the same cohort for training and even though they'd all had their ups and downs, somehow, they'd stuck together. Bellamy was a little older and had therefore qualified a little sooner than both Clarke and Octavia.

On her way back to the dorms, Clarke stuck her head in medical to check up that her fellow medic had everything covered, "You okay in here, Lincoln?"

The tall mass of muscle glanced up with his heavy brown eyes and inclined his head, the stethoscope in his hand pressed against his patient's chest, "Just started. I'm all good so far. Keep your pager handy, though. You know how things can change. Say hi to O for me."

Clarke inclined her head in agreement, grabbing a bandage and some med tape from the trays above the sink, "Sure." She ducked her head back out from the clinic and scanned her key card by the door that lead to her dorm, finding herself immediately confronted with the afore-mentioned brunette herself the second she entered her room.

"You're back."

Clarke nodded.

"You're bleeding."

"I'm on it." Clarke sidled past Octavia, inwardly cursing her ever-observant roommate, and went to perch cross-legged on her bed, rolling up her sleeve. The wound on her forearm looked worse than it actually was just because it had qualified for stitching. She fully intended on taking them out herself once the five days were up.

"What happened, Griff?" Octavia had permitted herself a space next to Clarke on her bed, leaning over to examine the damage.

"I was playing with knives and I got careless." She shrugged, "Nothing serious, don't worry." She began to wrap the bandage around the injury, holding the tape between her teeth, "Oh, and your boyfriend says hi." She managed to mumble around the obstruction in her mouth.

"He's not my boyfriend." Octavia quipped, her eyes flipping up to Clarke's.

As she taped the dressing to her skin, Clarke smirked and returned Octavia's stare, "Fine. The tall and ridiculously handsome man you exclusively sleep with on a regular basis says hi. Better?"

She rolled her eyes, "Much. Now stop changing the subject. What really happened to your arm, Clarke?"

"Nothing. I was just being careless, like I said. It wasn't intentional." _Not exactly_.

"Good job Linc stitched it up for you real quick, right?" Octavia asked.

Clarke creased her eyebrows, "He didn't. I was on leave when–"

She cut herself short, realising her blunder.

"I _knew_ it, Griffin! You were at the damn public hospital."

The blonde just exhaled, "Not when you rang. I'd already left…"

Octavia clipped the back of Clarke's head with her fingers, "You could've told me, Griff. Had me worried."

 _And pissed off by the looks of it_. Clarke noted the flash of irritation behind Octavia's eyes. But she couldn't blame her in the slightest.

"Is this a… a Commander thing?"

Clarke's eyes flickered over hers for a hard moment, "No. This is a Clarke-got-careless-and-forgot-she-was-holding-a-knife thing. The commander has nothing to do with this."

Her roommate leaned back against the headboard, pulling her knees upwards as she studied Clarke briefly, "Griffin, I know you. I know you're not the best with short range weaponry… but I also know you aren't stupid enough to slice your arm open just like that. Not unless it was intentional."

She looked away, feeling the deep blue of her irises cloud over with tears. She said nothing.

Octavia sighed and ran a hand through her hair in mild exasperation, "You need to talk to _somebody_ about this. Even if you won't talk to me."

"What is there to talk about?" Clarke's head spun towards Octavia's, her temper getting the better of her self-control in an ever ongoing fight, "What, should I talk about the way I watched her betray me? Or should I talk about the way she turned her back on me without a second-glance, leaving me exposed in the field? Maybe I should talk about the way she let me see her the way nobody else did. You know, the way she let me in… the way she made me believe she wasn't the enemy."

"But she was, Griff." Octavia couldn't seem to help herself.

"I know. Goddammit, I know." Clarke stared at the floor, pulling at her sleeves, "But it doesn't matter now. None of that does. Look, I'm going to get some sleep while I can. I'm on-call for medical. I need the cash."

Octavia just sighed and pushed herself to her feet, "Right, I'll leave you in peace." She headed over to her own bed and grabbed her jacket from the pillows, shrugging into it, "Just… you know where I am if you need me."

"You mean banging Lincoln on some unoccupied hospital bed in medical?" She managed a smirk, despite herself.

"You said it." Octavia sent her a wink, closing the door behind her.

Clarke just dropped down onto the pillows, closing her eyes once she'd set the pager on her bedside table.

The Commander.

The one demon Clarke could neither make peace with nor slay.

The one demon who would forever taunt her. Forever haunt her.

The aftereffects of the pain medication sedated her into a drowsy state of sleep, thoughts of pale green still in the forefront of her mind.


	2. Loss

**A/N: Here we have a little more insight into the history of our beloved Clexa. Please enjoy!**

" _You think you can handle it, Griffin?" The chancellor was watching her through a steady gaze, observing the way she would handle the newfound responsibility of taking on her first mission._

" _So… You want me to get access to Mountweather Corporation's intel? Which can only be done from inside the walls?" Clarke clarified, feeling the bundle of nerves in her stomach tighten._

 _The chancellor inclined his head, "They're harbouring a nuclear weapon illegally, Griffin. If you don't gain access to the codes, we can't disable them. I'll be sending you with a team to complete the mission. Some of them will be getting ready to pass as agents themselves. Some are already qualified. I just need you to do some groundwork first. Find out everything you can about how you're going to get into the headquarters, keep up with your physical training, train hard with the weaponry, and devise your plan… Did you look over the brief before you came here?"_

" _Sure. I need to get there before the other agency. They're the ones who are blacklisted, right? It said in the brief that they're targeting Mountweather Corporation too."_

 _The chancellor allowed Clarke a small smile, pressing the tips of his fingers together as he inclined his head, "Trikru is an illegal op company, Griffin. Although we have a common enemy right now, remember they are listed as our targets too. It's important to note at this point that you may well end up in some kind of altercation with them – but the priority is Mountweather Corporation. Not Trikru. Stay focused on the mission. Don't get distracted. Try to avoid confrontation if possible. The team you have isn't large enough to have any kind of dispute with a second company as well as Mountweather Corporation. I'm putting you in charge of the other unqualified agents because your leadership skills and knack for thinking on your feet haven't gone unnoticed. Any questions?"_

 _Clarke hesitated, "Are Trikru after the nuclear codes too?"_

 _The chancellor regarded Clarke for a minor moment before he shrugged a shoulder, "It's highly likely, yes."_

 _She nodded, "And how can I find out information on them? I know I need to stay focused on the mission, but isn't it important to know what competition I might be up against?"_

 _The chancellor raised his eyebrows and slid forwards a piece of paper, "Your login. You can access limited and relevant intel from our system. A digital copy of the brief should be accessible to you on there, along with extended information about Mountweather Corporation and Trikru's background. You report back to me in two weeks' time. It is up to you to use your time wisely, Griffin." He dismissed her with a nod of his head and she rose to her feet._

" _Thank you, Chancellor Jaha."_

…

Clarke looked up, her eyes meeting the empathic brown eyes of her counsellor, Jackson.

He was softly spoken, and seemed to possess the natural knack of enforcing safety whenever Clarke opened her mouth. He was there to listen; to understand.

…And probably there to report every word uttered back to the Chancellor.

But she had to do this. She had to cleanse herself before the final ceremony of becoming a qualified agent.

"So, you did some background checks on Trikru Company, right?" He prompted gently.

"Right."

Jackson nodded, clasping his dark hands together, his attention still solely focused on Clarke, "So, once you'd discovered they weren't after the nuclear codes, I understand you arranged a meeting?" He waited for confirmation before he continued, "Do you think you could tell me a little more about what drove your decision to contact them?"

Clarke explained what the Chancellor had told her in their initial meeting before adding, "…My thinking was that there was only one way to avoid a dispute between Trikru and that was to have a onetime mutual understanding. I know it was a risky decision. But, Mountweather Corporation was the priority and I didn't want to risk the lives of our agents. We are not expendable."

Jackson relayed her words back to her, paraphrasing them to ensure he understood correctly. Once Clarke inclined her head, he took a sip of his water and pressed carefully, "Maybe you could tell me a little bit more about how the truce developed. I think it's useful for you to organise the events in an orderly manner to help you process everything that happened. Once you've done that, it can help you identify why you feel the way you do."

Clarke slid her teeth over her lower lip, terrified of delving back into the depth of those couple of months. But she knew she had to take her own advice and get on with talking about it without letting her fear impede her.

…

" _So… you're Clarke Griffin."_

 _Clarke was standing in the doorway of a conference hall, her eyes adjusting to the bright lights once the blindfold had finally been removed from her eyes._

 _She inclined her head, briefly scanning the vicinity of the room to gain some kind of insight what she was up against; powerfully built men and women dressed in full black, wearing earpieces and holding guns or knives. Each stare was fixed on her, their fingers ready to pull triggers or throw blades should she do so much as look at one of them wrong._

" _You must be Trikru's commander…" Her eyes finally moved to rest on the powerful presence seated at the head of the table._

 _Although she confessed herself taken aback by the commander's appearance, she avoided letting it known by bravely jutting out her jaw._

 _The commander was young, perhaps a similar age to Clarke herself, with delicate features and pure olive skin. Her long brown hair had been partially braided and pushed back over her shoulders to reveal the intensity of hard, pale green eyes._

 _She might have actually been considered endearing to behold was it not for the strikingly stoic stare currently fixated on Clarke. Oh… and the knife she deftly toyed with between her fingertips. That was also kind of unnerving…_

 _The commander was unblinking, steel-gazed, as she presented her next question, "So, tell me Clarke Griffin, what is an undergrad agent of the government, such as yourself, doing fraternising with the enemy, hm?"_

" _We have a common target." Clarke explained, taking a step forwards, ignoring the way the guards tightened their hands on their weapons, "Mountweather Corporation has something both of us need."_

" _If you think I care about nuclear codes, you're wrong." Her voice, although smooth and pleasantly toned, carried unwavering authority, "Bombs are dangerous, Clarke Griffin. In the hands of anybody."_

" _I know. Mountweather has something else you need, doesn't it?" Clarke rested her fingertips on the table at the opposite side to the commander. Her impenetrable gaze flickered down to her hand as though any movement posed by Clarke could be a threat, "They have hostages belonging to your company."_

 _She remained silent, so Clarke continued._

" _You haven't found a way inside yet because you do not have sufficient funds to develop the technology. You've been pouring your budget into countless missions to get into Mountweather's headquarters, and each time have been unsuccessful. What if… what if we could help each other? Form an agreement? That way we both get what we want without risking each other's agents."_

" _A onetime deal?" The commander tilted her head to one side, regarding Clarke with guarded interest as the latter nodded, "Tell me, Clarke Griffin, what makes you think I would allow the nuclear codes to fall into the Ark's control? Bombs are just as dangerous when under the control of the government as they are anywhere else."_

 _Clarke inclined her head, "I know that. We need the codes to disable the bomb. Not control it."_

" _So, you're here to offer me a deal?"_

" _Commander, please. Do you really believe what this FBI wannabe is feeding you? This is a trap. They want the bomb for themselves." The roughened voice belonged to a middle-aged woman who was taking a step forwards, her dark hand raising her pistol in Clarke's direction, "She doesn't deserve to walk out of here alive."_

" _Indra." With a simple twitch of her slim fingers, the commander silenced her companion, her eyes unmoving from Clarke's. Once the guard had slunk back to resume her position by the wall, the commander arched an eyebrow, "Clarke?" She prompted._

" _Yes." She inclined her head, "I'm here to offer you a deal."_

…

"How regularly did you meet up with the commander?" Jackson calmly brought her back to reality.

"Often. We needed to learn to trust the other. We spent a lot of the time organising how we were going to carry out the plan."

Jackson inclined his head, "Did you feel you could trust her?"

Clarke hesitated, her jaw weakening, "Yes." She said finally, ignoring the sting of her eyes, "Yes, I did. With my life."

…

" _You're the government's dogsbody then, are you?"_

 _Clarke turned, her eyes landing on the only other occupant in the corridor. Judging by the way he was staring her down, she was pretty certain he wasn't there to merely have a friendly chinwag._

 _Clarke pushed back from the wall, her hand moving to rest on her hip, "I'm not a dogsbody."_

" _But you're from the government." The closer he drew, the faster the adrenaline pumped through her system. He was tall and unshakeable, donned in full black, Trikru's emblem tattooed on his neck. She could see the beads of sweat trickle from his hairless head down his temple. She could tell by the throb of his pulse beneath his jaw that he was working himself up to do something. Something dangerous._

 _Clarke kept silent, waiting for his next move._

 _She wasn't even certain why he was here. This wasn't even a part of Trikru's headquarters. This was somewhere both she and the commander had agreed to hold meetings. Perhaps he was yet another one of the commander's stationed guards. They were forever cropping up wherever Clarke went – presumably to keep an eye on her._

" _You're an agent of The Ark." He stated, "You're a threat to the commander. To our agents. To me."_

 _Shaking her head in the hopes that she could quickly dispel the tension, Clarke moved forwards, "No. I'm not a threat."_

 _Without blinking, he swept his leg forwards, colliding his shin with Clarke's ankles. All she could do was hold out her hands to break her fall as she hit the ground. A soft grunt left her lips as she glanced up, coming face to face with sharpened edge of his blade._

" _I'll slit your throat." He kicked forwards again, knocking her arms out from beneath her in one motion._

 _She was weapon-less. Alone._

 _Maybe the commander had planned this._

 _She rolled to the side, the chilling sound of metal whipping through the air just narrowly passing her head._

" _I am not a threat!" She repeated, moving to push herself upright. But he was unrelenting. He rose the knife above his head, the heavy boot on his foot making hard contact with her stomach. She bounced from the wall, the throb of her muscles drastically weighing her down._

 _Her heartrate pounded painfully in her ears as the blade cut through the air towards her once more. Yet somehow, it fell from his fingertips, the weight of his huge body crashing to the floor._

" _You dare defy my orders?"_

 _Clarke blinked up, her eyes landing on the fury of the commander. She was flanked by two companions – one who Clarke recognised to be Indra – the two of them awaiting further orders. But the commander gave none. She didn't need backing. The power of her singular kick had been enough to send Clarke's huge attacker crashing to the floor._

" _Quint, Explain." She demanded, dropping her knee to his throat, the emptiness of her eyes bearing hard into his._

" _She's a threat, Commander. The Ark is the reason my brother is dead." His voice was strained from the pressure of her knee, but yet the fight in his eyes remained._

 _This wasn't a sufficient explanation it seemed, "So, you attacked her? A woman with no defence? Against my orders?"_

" _Yes, Commander."_

 _She removed her knee from his windpipe, straightening up and kicking the knife from his hand, breaking two of his fingers with a sickening crack in the process._

" _By attacking her, you attack me." She bit, moving to the guards and leaning forwards, removing the handgun from Indra's thigh holster. She passed it to Clarke, "He knows the punishment, Clarke. The kill is yours."_

 _Numbly, she held the gun in her fingers, staring at Quint as he lay on the ground, the hatred set deep in his expression._

 _It was like the narrow set of the corridor pushed the walls closer to her, restricting her breathing._

 _She couldn't do it._

 _The commander was waiting._

 _Every eye was upon her._

 _She hesitated further, trying to slow her breathing as the mouth of the gun waited to spit into Quint's skull._

 _The commander allowed her a few seconds before she strode forwards, straddling his chest and resting her hands either side of his head. With one swift twist of her wrists, it was over._

 _Quint lay, his neck broken, silent and unmoving._

" _Clear this up." The commander ordered the two agents behind her, and they nodded, doing as they were bid._

 _She pushed open the door and waited for Clarke to enter, the gun still hanging by her side._

" _You didn't kill him." She remarked, the door closing behind the two of them, "Why?"_

" _It's easier to make enemies than it is to make friends." She murmured, resting the handgun on the table and turning to face the commander, "I don't need any more enemies right now."_

 _She studied Clarke, hard. The distance between them was slim – and perhaps uncomfortably so – but the impact of the commander's stare she once found intimidating had become intriguing to her instead. Maybe_ because _it so was intimidating._

 _The danger pulled her close._

" _He would've killed you, Clarke."_

" _Maybe I would've deserved it." She returned, keeping her own gaze level, "But I'm… I'm grateful. Thank you for saving me, Commander."_

" _Lexa."_

 _Clarke raised an eyebrow, expectantly awaiting an explanation._

" _My name is Lexa."_

…

"Do you think you felt indebted to the commander when she saved you?"

Clarke met Jackson's soft question with a shrug, "Not indebted so much as grateful. From that point on I knew she needed me. She was brutal. She _is_ brutal. I knew that I was safe with her so long as she needed me. She killed one of her own so I could survive..."

Jackson gave a nod of his head, "How did you feel about seeing him die in front of you?"

"I've seen death, Jackson. I've killed before, myself. The death itself didn't affect me so much… I think what got me was knowing that it was supposed to be me who did it. But I couldn't. I wonder if the commander began to see me as weak and that was why she ended up betraying me."

He paused, giving himself time to prepare his next statement before he leaned forwards, resting his hands on his knees, "The betrayal affected you deeply."

"Yes." Clarke felt each piece of her burn with the memory of seeing the commander turn her back so easily and walk away.

"Could you expand on that a little for me?"

Clarke knew it was a dangerous game to fully disclose the profundity of the betrayal.

"I am loyal to The Ark. I placed my trust into somebody who had given me every reason to rely on her. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I had even lost one agent on my team because of my foolishness."

Although that had been the truth, the hurt of the betrayal had run deeper than that.

So much deeper.

…

" _Earth to Clarke."_

 _She blinked, tearing her eyes away from the computer screen to meet the mocking gaze of the commander._

" _When did you get here?"_

 _Lexa revealed – for the first time – the smallest hint of a smile, "I've been here for the past three minutes, sky girl."_

 _Clarke couldn't help but let her eyes linger on Lexa's unsettling smirk, "Sky girl?" She repeated._

" _Your head has a permanent residence in the clouds, Clarke. It's like you live up there." Lexa moved to take the seat beside her, resting one elbow on the desk, "You want to tell me what's wrong?"_

 _Shifting to face her, Clarke worried at her lower lip before her mouth opened, "Nothing. It's just… I don't like the idea that after the mission is over… we'll just go back to the way things were."_

" _You mean, you don't like thinking that one day, I might become your target?" Lexa's voice was soft, her fingertips curled lightly on the surface of the desk, not too far from Clarke's._

 _She nodded._

" _Careful, or I'll start thinking you care about me, sky girl." There was still a playful edge to Lexa's words, yet Clarke knew there was something deeper in her eyes. Something unfathomable._

" _Then I suppose that's the difference between the two of us. I can't_ not _care." She ran her hand through her tousled blonde waves in thought, "Everything I do is because I care about the people I'm responsible for."_

" _We owe each other nothing, Clarke." There they were. The walls. She threw them back up in an attempt to guard herself, "If I become your target, then you'll have no choice."_

 _Clarke had never met somebody so goddamn infuriating, "So, that's it? You think it's okay to just block all of this out?" She gestured between the two of them._

" _We look out for each other because we need each other. I don't have time to develop relationships outside of business."_

" _But I've seen you, Lexa. You put on this huge front. You're ruthless because you have to be to conduct the kind of operations you do. But that doesn't mean that's who you are. I've seen the way you are with your agents. You're not heartless when they need you."_

" _You're wrong." The commander shook her head, "That is who I am. I am who I need to be to keep Trikru in operation."_

" _Even though it's against the law?"_

" _We're all criminals, Clarke." She was quick to respond, "Just because the government allows you to steal, manipulate, and kill… it doesn't make you any less guilty than me. A life is a life. Once taken, it cannot be retuned…"_

" _So, you do care."_

 _Lexa was silent as she looked away, finally breaking the concentration of her stare on Clarke's features._

 _Gently, Clarke reached forwards, brushing the tips of the commander's fingers with her own, "Lexa…" She said softly, catching sight of the way Lexa's breathing stalled in her chest, "If we can't care… then what's the point in any of this?"_

" _I used to care, Clarke, and it cost me everything I had." She pulled her hand away, "Caring about somebody isn't worth the pain you feel when you lose them." She rose to her feet without waiting for a response, "Keep working on this. I'll check back with you later."_

…

"As I understand it, you saved the commander too, didn't you? As she had once saved you?"

Clarke nodded, the heaviness dragging at her insides at the thought of how close she'd gotten to Lexa. Closer than she should.

"What happened?" Jackson waited, taking another sip of his water.

Clarke exhaled, her eyes fixed on the untouched water in her own cup. She watched the ripples formulate in the liquid and spread, colliding with the insides of the glass, "An agent of Trikru turned rogue. Pulled a gun on her in a meeting. I acted fast and knocked her out of the way. The bullet skimmed my ribs, but didn't leave me with anything aside from a graze."

"You risked yourself for her."

She shrugged, "Stupid move."

Jackson tilted his head to one side, "But you did it because you cared for her."

"Another stupid move, right?" Clarke muttered, bitterly, "I should've let the bullet take her."

…

" _You saved my life today."_

 _Clarke glanced up from her usual spot behind the computer, her eyes resting on Lexa's as she walked into the room. She said nothing, and just listened to the quiet thud as the door closed. The commander was leaning against it, something stirring in her expression. It was amusing how troubled she seemed to be when trying to figure out what to say next._

 _Rolling her eyes in mockery, Clarke broke the silence, "I think the words you're looking for are 'thank you'."_

" _How are your ribs?"_

 _She raised her top upwards, revealing the small abrasion, "Fine. I got lucky."_

 _She may have imagined it, but it seemed the commander's eyes were lingering on her skin._

 _Clarke let her top fall back into its natural hang before she switched the monitor off, pushing herself to her feet, "I've sorted it by the way. The plans. We should be ready to carry out the mission in the next couple of days."_

 _Lexa didn't appear to be listening._

" _Hey, Earth to the commander." Clarke mimicked, moving towards her, her hands swinging by her sides._

" _I do care, Clarke." She murmured finally, her words slowing Clarke's footsteps just inches away from where she was standing herself, "I just… I can't afford to."_

" _Right, because you lost somebody before." Clarke nodded, "I know. It sucks losing somebody. I've lost before too." She watched the commander argue with herself internally for a few moments before she continued, "Who was it?"_

" _Her name was Costia. She was an agent here. I sent her on a mission. She never came back."_

" _What happened?"_

 _Lexa inhaled slowly, her fingers still curved around the door-handle, "I'd had a bounty placed on me, but I was too protected, so the bounty was placed on her head instead. On her actual head. It was delivered to my office in a box. Because I cared about her, she was killed. Decapitated. Because of me."_

 _Clarke could see the way the detached pain sat behind her eyes as they fixed themselves on some far corner of the room._

" _I'm sorry, Lexa." Clarke meant it. She spoke the words with such sincerity, it seemed to bring the commander's attention back to her._

" _The only way to stop feeling the pain was to stop caring altogether."_

 _Clarke nodded, "Loss isn't something we can write down or put into words. There's only one way to process it, and that's to feel it. It doesn't get easier… we just get stronger."_

 _She'd held onto those words throughout her time at Ark Academy. Loss was inevitable. But how it was handled had to be a choice. You either got stronger, or you let it destroy you._

 _Lexa's chest rose and fell with each slow breath she took, the alien vulnerability keeping her eyes wide and unguarded._

 _Clarke took a measured step forwards, watching the way Lexa's gaze dropped to her mouth as she spoke once more, "But like I said before, if we can't care, what's the point in doing this? What's the point in living?"_

 _Pale green flickered up again to meet deep blue, "To survive."_

" _Yeah? Well, did you ever stop to consider that maybe – just maybe – there's more to life than just business? More to life than just surviving?"_

 _She was stunted for words._

 _For once, the commander had nothing to say._

" _We are not mindless killing machines. We are people." The distance between them was tight – so tight, Clarke almost found herself struggling to breathe, "We need to care or we'll lose sense of who we are. Don't we deserve that? Don't we deserve better than just surviving?" Her voice was barely above a strained whisper._

" _Maybe we do." Lexa spoke finally, her eyes tumbling to Clarke's mouth once more, her free hand reaching forwards and cupping her neck. Clarke could only manage a quiet gasp of surprise as she felt soft lips against her own._

 _It was overwhelming._

 _Seeing somebody who was in such a position of power break down before her._

 _Lexa kept her mouth on Clarke's for a brief moment, until she began to doubt herself. But Clarke didn't let her pull away. Not right then._

 _No, after the initial shock she leaned into the kiss, tasting the smoothness of her lips, the sweetness of her tongue._

 _It was intoxicating._

 _And completely reckless._

 _Maybe that was why she continued._

 _Maybe that's why her heart was thudding wildly in her chest._

 _Her fingers trailed down the length of Lexa's arm, brushing over her wrist before settling on covering the olive-skinned hand gripping the doorknob._

 _Their noses brushed as the commander pulled back slightly to draw breath. She waited only a moment before joining their lips back together, the temperature transmitting between their bodies climbing higher with each heated second that passed._

 _Clarke couldn't help the quiet whimper escape her lips as she felt the tug of Lexa's fingers tangle in her hair._

 _Her thighs pressed up to Lexa's, unshakeable desire pooling violently in her stomach._

 _But then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over._

 _They broke apart with the sound of a fist hammering on the door, "Commander, are you in there?"_

 _The fury at being interrupted, the passion of the kiss, and the vulnerability of being left so wide open flashed across her eyes so quickly, Clarke fell back a step, recalling herself._

" _What is it, Indra?"_

 _Clarke commended the commander's ability to allow her voice to sound so undisturbed; so steady._

" _Anya called. You're needed back at headquarters."_

 _Lexa closed her eyes, trying to recover control over her respiratory system, "I'm coming."_

 _Clarke bit back the innuendo she was just dying to make, and met Lexa's stare one final time before she turned away, "I'll see you in a couple of days. I'll email you the details of where we'll meet."_

 _The commander simply inclined her head, smoothing out her expression as she opened the door, leaving Clarke alone with her dizzying thoughts._

 _Well, shit._

…

If Jackson noticed the hatred in Clarke's vicious response, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he went on to state the obvious, "So, you regret saving her?"

"Yes." Clarke replied with conviction.

Jackson nodded, "At Mountweather Corporation… everything had gone to plan, right? Up until…"

"…Up until the commander made a deal with the CEO of the corporation. She made an exchange – us for her hostages. She gave up our position so she could walk away unharmed."

"After you'd helped her get inside."

Clarke inclined her head, "But she wasn't the mission. Getting the codes were. Luckily Monty had gotten the codes and shut down the power system, but it came at a price. I had to kill my way through at least 40 men and women to escape. Not all of them were military. Some of them were secretaries, medics, janitors, cooks… some of them had families… children who they had to leave behind because of me."

"You were left with little choice."

"But now I have to carry that burden of wasting innocent lives when it could have otherwise been avoided." She shook her head, reliving the experience of seeing Lexa turn her back so easily. Like betraying her was second-nature, "Because I trusted her."

She should have realised.

The commander hadn't wanted to feel the pain, so she'd stopped caring altogether. Again.

"Is that all for today?" Clarke looked up to Jackson, her features void of expression, "I have a shift in medical in an hour and I could do with something to eat first."

Jackson gave her a small smile, nodding his head, "You've done well today, Clarke. It's good to come to terms with mistakes and to see that sometimes, in a bad situation, we have to do the best we can. You'll make a brilliant agent. I know you will."

Clarke said nothing further on the subject, but instead thanked her counsellor and pulled herself to her feet before she turned to leave it all behind in that room.

 _Loss doesn't get easier. You just get stronger._


End file.
